


Only Human

by sherlocked71976 (sherlocked71979)



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bingley is an adorable doofus, Darcy is a sad soft boi, Darcy's pov, F/M, Hand Jobs, London, Loss of Virginity, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexy Times, Swearing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wickham is a peice of shit, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked71979/pseuds/sherlocked71976
Summary: The events of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice as seen through the eyes of Darcy. Story takes place in modern day London. Lizzy and Jane are American students studying abroad. Their sisters take turns visiting them throughout the story. Bingley and Darcy are recent business partners, but longtime friends. Caroline is as snake-ish as ever. George Wickham is an actual rapist - the rape will not be described in detail, but I have tagged this story with the Rape/Non-Con and Underage warnings for those who are triggered by either or both of those things.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley, Lydia Bennet/George Wickham, William Collins/Charlotte Lucas
Comments: 31
Kudos: 105





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not Jane Austen (shock and awe). Story will more or less follow the original plot, but all will be seen from Darcy's point of view. This is my first fic in a long long long time (I used to post on fanfiction.net), so please review!!

Prologue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that I, William Darcy, am an arsehole. The following tale, dear reader, will explain how that came to be and how, I hope, I have made the preceding statement a falsehood instead. The following tale does not often show me at my best. I hope, however, that you may look past my faults and forgive my disgraceful, ignorant, and often impure thoughts as I relay to you the circumstances by which I came to fall deeply in love with the most wonderful, challenging woman I’ve ever met, the method by which I nearly ruined an incredibly important friendship, and the events surrounding the creation of a familial fissure that will never heal. I hope you will not judge me too harshly.


	2. Hanover Terrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles has met two lovely young ladies and can't wait to introduce them to his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made some adjustments to the ages of the characters.  
> Lizzie and Jane are very nearly the same age, Jane is 21, Lizzie is 20 but not for much longer.  
> Darcy and Charles are 25. Caroline is 18. Louisa is 30, her husband is almost 70. They've been married for about 10 years.
> 
> Please review!!

Chapter 1: Hanover Terrace

I was sat in my office. _My office_. Still getting used to that. When I took over control from my Aunt Catherine in April, a lot of work was done to make this office mine. Catherine’s taste in furniture was, how should I phrase this, medieval. I was honestly surprised we didn’t have to remove any torture devices when her furniture was cleared out to make room for my more practical mahogany desk and overstuffed leather chairs. My degree from Cambridge’s Judge Business School was propped in my bookcase with photos of my parents and Georgiana on either side. The office is still rather spartan in comparison to Charles’ but I don’t mind it. Our companies had recently merged, an event that proved profitable for both parties and served to deepen our friendship. Our offices are across the hallway from each other now, as opposed to being across the Thames. The economic windfall had been excellent for Charles. He had decided to purchase a new home, one big enough for himself and his sister and closer to her university. Charles is an orphan, like myself, and the sole caretaker of his younger sister Caroline, who recently began her studies at the fashion and design school at Regent’s University. I feel for Charles sometimes. His younger sister is an absolute terror, but I guess we can’t all be blessed with saints for sisters. Caroline is an uncommonly cruel young woman. She delights in shit-talking friends and strangers alike. She also is labouring under the delusion that she will one day be my wife. Her older sister, Louisa, has enjoyed several years of trophy-wifery and it seems Caroline has decided that is the life she wants to live as well. Although she just recently came of age, she has flirted with me non-stop since the first day Charles invited me home with him. We’ve known each other since we were 18 years old. We are now 25. Damn near seven years. SEVEN YEARS. Seven fucking years dealing with Caroline’s shite. She just turned 18 earlier this year. What the hell did she think I was going to do with her when she was eleven goddamn years old? Go to prison? I sure as shit think not.

Charles entered my office at around 1. He was bouncier than usual. He had either had more than one of his normal sickly-sweet coffees or he was in love again. Turned out it was both.

“Oh, Will I’m so happy you convinced me to snatch up Hanover Terrace. I met the most beautiful woman in world yesterday. I never would have known her if I hadn’t decided to take your advice. I invited her and her sister out with us tonight. You don’t mind, do you? Even if you do, once you meet her, you’ll forget you were ever bothered.” He spoke at such a speed that I only caught about every third word. My ears perked, however, at the ‘out with _us_ tonight’ part. Out with us? I don’t remember agreeing to go anywhere with Charles. He always wants to go to nightclubs. _He knows I don’t dance. He always does this. Drags me to some poppy nightclub with strobe lights and terrible music._

“And how did you meet this one Charles? Spill your coffee on her? No, wait, you were walking Caroline’s stupid pug and she thought it was cute and wanted to pet it.”

“Christ, am I becoming that predictable?” _Yes Charles. Every girl you’ve ever fancied has fallen into your life in a cliché._

I nodded. He sighed.

“Well, it’s different this time. She isn’t like any other girl I’ve been with. More beautiful than Sarah, kinder than Tilly, oh and her sister Will. Her sister has got to be one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever spoken to in my life. They’re both very beautiful Will. If I was a betting man, I’d wager that Lizzie might even be beautiful enough to tempt you out of your shell and entice you to have some goddamn fun for once. Maybe she’ll even get you to dance.” He nudged me with his elbow, winking. _Yeah right Charles. Not even Charlize Theron could get me to dance at a nightclub._

“I seriously doubt that Charles. So, what’s this one called, hm?”

“Jane.” _He said it with a sigh. Oh, he’s already long gone._ “Her sister is called Elizabeth, but she prefers Lizzie. They’re American, Darce. From the Midwest. They’re both studying abroad at Regent’s for the year.”

“And to what godforsaken place will you be attempting to drag me to tonight?”

“I was thinking Drama? I wanna show off a little Will. I really like her; I want to impress her.”

“Drama might be a little much for a midwestern girl, don’t you think? What about that place we went in Camden a few months ago, by the lock?”

“Lock 17? Isn’t that a little down market for you Darce? There isn’t even a dress code!”

“Come off it, you know I couldn’t care less Charles. I don’t even like going out. I just think Lock 17 will be the better choice for her. You don’t want to scare her. Anyway, I think you’ll have a nice time. Without me.”

“Nuh uh, you aren’t getting out of this. You come or you’re dead to me.” I rolled my eyes. _Jesus he’s such a goddamn drama queen._

“Ugh fine I’ll go. But I’m not dancing and you can’t make me. I’m a grown man Charles. So, meet at Hanover Terrace at, what, 8pm? Or should we meet earlier?”

“I was thinking 7:30, that way we’ll all have plenty of time to get ready and you can get to know them before we go. I’m going to order the cab for 8 so we’ll have plenty of time to get there if there’s any slow spots.”

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving Caroline at home.”

“Yeah, so she can kick my arse over it later? No chance. Besides, we’ll probably lose her to the dancefloor as soon as we get in. She’ll find some nice dumb boy to buy her drinks and you won’t have to see her all night.” _No Charles she’ll be on me like white on rice all damn night and you bloody well know it._

“Alright. But I’m not dancing.”

I arrived at Hanover Terrace about 7:30. As soon as Charles opened the door, I immediately regretted my decision to come. I should have told him I got food poisoning from lunch or something. Caroline was stomping through the front room, going from box to box screaming that she couldn’t find her favourite clubbing heels. _Who the fuck has a favourite pair of heels for clubbing?_ _Heels seem so impractical for dancing_. Charles’ new love and her sister had yet to arrive and Charles appeared to be in a slight panic.

“What if she doesn’t come Will?” He said shakily. _Christ he’s in a full meltdown._

“I’m sure she’ll be here in a few minutes Charles. It’s not even close to 8 o’ clock yet. You’ve got plenty of time, just relax.” I took a minute to look around his new home. He had barely unpacked. I helped him get everything in order for the move about two weeks ago and he moved in a few days later. Everything was basically where it was when I visited three days ago. “Have you genuinely not unpacked anything Charles? How are you even living in here?”

“I’ve got enough clothes unpacked upstairs to last another week probably. Caroline’s rarely home in the evening anymore so I just keep getting take-away. There’s a Chipotle just around the corner on Baker Street. You know I love a burrito bowl. Something I have in common with the lovely Jane.” _Gag._ Well, at least the movers got his furniture set up, although most of the downstairs furnishings were unusable because they were covered with cardboard boxes and plastic totes and suitcases. The sofa in the main living area was clear enough that I took a seat. Caroline continued her tear through the front room until a triumphant screech echoed through the relatively empty house. The heels in question were easily six inches high, sparkly platformed monstrosities. They completed a look which can only be described as what a disco ball would look like if it was a contestant on _Love Island_. Hopefully Jane and her sister would be a bit more sensibly dressed, like Charles and myself. I decided on a plain black tee and black jeans with my black and white trainers. Charles had gone with a less monochromatic palette, wearing a bright blue button down that was almost the colour of his eyes and a pair of dark blue jeans. _We’re wearing the same shoes. Us and every other man in London._ Suddenly there was knock on the door. I checked my watch, 7:35. _I told Charles he was worrying for nothing._ He bounced towards the door like Caroline’s pug when he needed a shit. He opened the door to reveal a young blonde woman and a younger looking woman with auburn hair.

“Jane, Lizzie, I’m so pleased you’re here. Sorry about the mess, haven’t had much time to unpack yet, with work and all.” Charles led them through to the room I had posted up in. The dark-haired girl peered at me through purple framed glasses. Her sister gave her a little nudge. _Well fuck, Charles wasn’t kidding._ _God they’re both gorgeous!_ They were dressed considerably more sensibly than Caroline. Jane wore a low pair of black heels that complemented her red cocktail dress. Her sister was even more comfortably dressed, in black leggings, Doc Martins, and a plain white t-shirt. She wore a black leather jacket over the tee. Neither girl appeared to be wearing much make-up. Both were possessed of the natural beauty that Caroline tried to fabricate in her hour-long make-up routine that left her looking like she had Photoshopped her own face but in real life. I stuck my hand out. “Will Darcy. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” _Wow, sound more like you’re a hundred years old, why don’t you Will?_

“Will, this is Lizzie,” he gestured to the brunette, “and this is Jane.” He put his hand on the small of the blonde’s back and she blushed redder than Charles’ hair.

“Lizzie Bennet. It’s so nice to meet you Will.” She took my hand with her considerably smaller one and shook it. It was a firmer handshake than I’d had from some of my business associates. She dropped my hand and her sister took up the vacancy. Her handshake was much softer, grip much lighter, much more feminine. Looking at the two women before me, I wouldn’t have known they were sisters if Charles hadn’t told me. They couldn’t have been more different. One blonde, one brunette. Jane had soft blue eyes, Lizzie’s were bright and hazel. Jane was tall and slender, her sister shorter and softer around the middle. Taking all of her in I came to a sudden realization: she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. _Okay Will be cool. For once in your bloody life be cool._ I opened my mouth, but before I could speak Lizzie launched into an animated conversation with Charles about her day. It was all I could do not to stare at her mouth while it moved faster than Charles’ ever had, no matter how in love he was or how many Frappuccinos he had consumed. I sat back down on the sofa, while Lizzie sat on the carpet, Charles on the coffee table, and Jane remained standing. Lizzie told us about one of her professors, an archaeologist who taught university classes when he wasn’t on digs.

“He’s like a real-life Indiana Jones except without the bullwhip and the hat. And he’s not Harrison Ford. But still. Oh, and don’t even let me get started on my Shakespeare professor. _George_. He’s my most favourite.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your studies Lizzie. But don’t forget to explore the city while you’re here! London is full of endless things to see and do. I’ve lived here most of my life and I still haven’t seen everything!” _Charles is so blessed. I wish I could just talk. Talking is better than staring. C’mon mouth, work!_ “Wouldn’t you agree Darce?”

 _Shit, I have to talk now?_ I nodded, again opening my mouth to speak, but no words came. Charles picked the conversation back up, turning to Jane to ask if she had a pleasant day as well.

“Yes. I took a lovely walk through Regent’s Park today. I only have the one class on Thursdays so I’ve been using the rest of the day to explore a bit. Lizzie’s schedule is so much fuller than mine so I’ve been finding places for us to go on the weekends. We’ve gone to Camden Market and Hyde Park. When you met us the other day, we were on our way back from the Tate Modern, I don’t remember if I said or not.”

“Yes, you said Lizzie was disappointed because she thought you were going to the Tate Britain.”

“Do you have something against modern art?” _Oh, cool. Thanks, mouth. Why did that come out like I’m angry about that? Modern art is dumb. How is a pile of rubber or a cut-up McDonald’s bag art?_

“I can appreciate that its art, like how I can appreciate that romance novels are literature or techno is music, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I prefer the old masters and classical art to a splash of paint on a canvas. My little cousin can do that too, does that mean her art belongs in a prestigious museum? Naw fam it sure don’t.” _Yes. I wholly agree. Why does she have her eyebrow raised at me? Does she think I don’t agree? What is my face doing? Am I scowling? I don’t want to scowl. Did she say ‘fam’? That doesn’t matter. Why does it feel like it matters?_

“You’ll have to excuse my sister. She’s never been shy about her opinions. And she has a lot of them.” Jane shot her sister a disapproving look. Lizzie just shrugged. Caroline chose that moment to come swanning into the room. Seeing there was a perfectly good space next to her brother on the coffee table, she chose to throw herself down into my lap. _Oh, for fucks sake. She’s gonna get fake tanner on my trousers._

“Will, my love," I threw up in my mouth a little, "we’re going to have such a wonderful time at Drama tonight.” _I can’t wait to burst her bubble._

“Caroline, did Charles not tell you? We aren’t going to Drama. We’re going to Lock 17, in Camden.” I tried to move her from my lap, but she dug her heels into the carpet for grounding. _Fat Christ, Charles will you get your sister under control?_

She sputtered, on the verge of a full tantrum directed at her brother when, blessedly, Charles’ phone vibrated. “That’ll be the cab. Caroline are you still coming?”

She jumped up off my lap and straightened the piece of sequined cloth trying to pass itself off as a dress. “Of course, I’m going Charles. I put all this on, I can’t just not go out now!” She stomped off to the dining area to get her bag from the table. Charles led Jane towards the front door. I extended my hand down to Lizzie, who took it. I pulled her up from the floor. _You should let go of her hand now Will. You’re being weird._ I dropped her hand like it had burned me. _Smooth_. She looked at me, smirked and cocked that eyebrow again. Saying nothing, she followed her sister and Charles out the front door. Caroline took advantage of my initial inaction by slipping her arm into mine, leading me towards the cab. And my doom.


	3. Lock 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Darcy suffers a night out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For best results, listen to the following songs:
> 
> Good as Hell by Lizzo (playing when they walk in)  
> YOUTH by Troye Sivan (playing when they go downstairs)  
> False God by Taylor Swift (plays when Darcy watches Lizzie dance)  
> Only Human by Jonas Brothers (plays when Lizzie tries to get Darcy to dance)
> 
> Kind of a long one, so bear with me.

Chapter 2: Lock 17

The five of us piled into the back of the cab. Charles and Jane took the two seats facing the back of the cab, leaving myself to sit on the bench seat between Lizzie and Caroline. Lizzie stretched her legs out across the back of the cab. The lights of London illuminated the back of the cab and I got a good look at her combat boots. Caroline did as well.

“Do you _see_ her boots? That’s _at least_ six inches of mud!” She wrinkled her nose in disgust like Lizzie had dog shit on her shoes _. It definitely isn’t. But I mean yeah, they’re muddy, she basically lives in a park, what’d you expect?_

“I _am_ sitting right here. They aren’t that muddy and they aren’t on your feet so, why do you care?” _Jesus Christ, I love her._ Lizzie shot a look across the cab to her sister. Jane returned it with one that clearly said “Be nice”. _Why should she be if Caroline is going to be a cunt?_

“Caroline be nice.” _Is that all you have to offer here Charles?_ Thankfully, the rest of cab ride passed mostly in silence, with Jane and Lizzie occasionally chiming in with remarks about the area. Having been in the city for nearly two months, they had gotten to know the area surrounding Regent’s quite well it seemed. Blessedly, it was a short ride from Charles’ house to Lock 17, traffic not being nearly as unbearable at eight on a Thursday night. I couldn’t get out of the cab fast enough once it stopped. The brisk autumn air was a welcome cure for the nausea brought on by my nervousness from my proximity to Lizzie and the overwhelming stench of Caroline’s perfume. Once everyone had disembarked, we began the short, uphill trek to the bar. Caroline slipped her arm through mine and snuggled into my arm.

“Will, I’m cold.” She whined. _Whose fucking fault is that Caroline? I didn’t pick out your stupid outfit. It’s autumn, in London. We’re by water. What the fuck did you expect?_

“Guess you should have worn something a little more sensible.” I replied, struggling in vain to extricate myself from her grip. The more I struggled, the tighter her grip got, like Devil’s Snare. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the smirk come back to Lizzie’s face. _Well I’m glad I can provide her with some entertainment._ There was barely a queue when we got to the door. The step up into the building caught Caroline off guard and I was able to slip out of her grasp. The main floor was not as packed with people as I feared it would be. _Everyone is probably downstairs dancing._ Pop music was filtering up from the basement area. I didn’t recognize the song but Caroline did because she went immediately down the stairs. _Oh, thank fuck for that._ The four of us that remained worked our way through the small crowd to the bar. Charles had his wallet out before we even got up to order. I got my usual Old Fashioned, a double though, since I was definitely going to need the sweet relief alcohol provided my anxiety. Lizzie ordered Rum Punch for herself and Jane. Charles got a Screwdriver and four shots of tequila. _He knows I hate tequila. He does this every time we go out._ Judging by the look on Lizzie’s face, she wasn’t too thrilled with the prospect of needing to throw back that vile shit either. The bartender set the shots down on the counter. Charles passed them out, then raised his glass.

“To new friends!” We clinked our shot glasses and threw them back. I shuddered. Jane and Lizzie looked like they wanted to spit it right back out. Charles took his like a champ, like he always does. We set our glasses back down on the counter and the bartender asked if we wanted another round. Jane, Lizzie, and I politely declined. We grabbed our drinks from the bar and Charles immediately led Jane to a nearby table, leaving myself and Lizzie behind. Lizzie was looking around, taking it all in.

“This place seems like kind of a hole in the wall. How did it catch the attention of two wealthy businessmen? I’d have figured this wasn’t really your scene.” _Oh, God is she talking to me? Why is she talking to me? C’mon Will you know how to do this. You talked to girls all the time at uni. Oh, no I took too long, she’s walking over to her sister. Should I follow her? Yeah, idiot, otherwise you’d just be standing at the bar like a numpty. Why am I so bad at this?_ When I made it to the table, she was asking Charles the same question she just asked me. I took the seat on the left of Charles; Jane was seated on his right. I stared into my drink while Charles told her the story of the last time we had been sat in this bar.

“… so, we left the concert at The Underworld, it’s this rock club not too far from here, but Darce wasn’t ready to go home, so we walked around Camden for a bit until we found this place. We had been to Lockside, the restaurant just a little further down the canal, for a business lunch before, but we hadn’t been over this way at night since we were in uni. I had no clue this place even existed until we saw the queue.” _Charles is so good at talking. Why can’t I be more like him?_ He went back to asking Jane questions about America, while Lizzie and I sat in relative silence, Lizzie chiming in every now and then to back up something Jane had said. I finished my drink and went back to the bar to get another. I was definitely going to need it if I was ever going to make an attempt at conversation with Lizzie. I stayed at the bar to drink my second and my third drinks. I was about to order a fourth, when Charles appeared at my side.

“For God’s sake Darce, what is wrong with you? I know you weren’t exactly thrilled to come out with me tonight but I didn’t think you’d be this broody. I was hoping you and Lizzie might hit it off. You’re quite similar you know. You’d see it if you made the effort to chat with her.” _What do you think all this alcohol is for Charles? I’m doing my best, my dude. Ooh, my dude? I think imma tiny bit drunk._ “I’m getting us another round and then were gonna go downstairs. And when I say we I mean you too. You used to be so fun at uni. I know you still have it in you, I think maybe you just need a little nudge to find it again.” _I don’t know Charlie boy; I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy._ He clapped me on the back and grabbed his and Jane’s drinks from the bar and went back to the table, leaving me with Lizzie’s drink and my own. _Oh, that’s very clever Chuck, leave me with her drink so I have to interact…_ Suddenly Lizzie appeared at my side, taking up the space Charles had just vacated, swiping her drink from the bar. I must have looked visibly startled because she gave me that look again, the eyebrow and the smirk. She took a large sip of it and strutted away from the counter. My body seemed to move of its own accord, grabbing my drink and moving my legs to follow her. She led the way down the stairs while I brought up the rear. I didn’t know the song that was playing, but Lizzie seemed pretty excited about it. She grabbed Jane by the wrist, pulling her towards the dance floor. Charles trailed after the sisters like a puppy dog. Thankfully, the downstairs also had a bar, so I posted up on a barstool to work on my drink and ordering another one before long. I couldn’t see any familiar faces in the crowded dance floor; no Charles, no Caroline, blessedly but, unfortunately, no Lizzie. _I bet she’s a good dancer. She looks like she’d be a good dancer. I wish I could see the way she moves. I wish I wasn’t so damn awkward. I hope no one tries to dance with her. I don’t want anyone else touching her._ Wow, four whole drinks plus one shot in – yeah, I was definitely drunk. How else could you explain me thinking about her like that? Like she already was _mine_. I nursed my current drink more than I had the previous ones. I decided to get up and walk the perimeter of the dance floor. Several songs went by before I caught a glimpse of her again. She was moving slow, in time with the beat. She was alone, but I could see Charles and Jane a little further in the crowd. None of them had their drinks anymore. They must have dropped them at the bar after I got up. Lizzie clearly knew the song that was playing; she was saying the words along with it. I could read her lips from my vantage point. _We might just get away with it, religion’s in your lips, even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship_ , she threw her head back and ran her hand through her hair, continuing to sway her hips to the beat. The lights hit her and her hair reflected it, causing it to look even redder in light. _Probably about the same shade as my face. She can’t look over here. She can’t catch me watching her. God, she’s so beautiful._ A few more people moved away from the crowd and I got a full view of Charles and Jane. He was holding her close while they swayed to the beat, his arms around her waist. He whispered something in her ear and she smiled. Lizzie continued to dance. Several men moved around her, but no one tried to dance with her. _How strange? She’s easily one of the most beautiful women in here? Can they not see it? Do they not see her? How could they ignore her like that when I can’t take my eyes off of her? Can’t they see how stunning she is?_ I continued to watch her move, imagining what I would do if I had the confidence to join her. _What would it feel like to hold her close, like Charles is holding Jane? Would she let me? What if I couldn’t keep up with her? Would she taunt me? Or, would she help me? Would she guide my hips with hers? I could hide my face in her soft hair, pretend there was no one else here, just feel the curve of her arse as it moved against my cock. Oh okay, that train of thought needs to end._ I cleared my throat and looked around, as if to double check that no one had heard that thought. I was so lost in my own fantasy that I hadn’t noticed Lizzie had vanished from my sight again, or that the song had changed. Charles, however, had taken notice of my new position and made his way towards me. Jane was no longer with Charles as he strode over. I looked around the room and caught a glimpse of red and blonde hair standing at the bar. They must have decided to get another drink.

“God, Darcy, I think I’m in love! Jane really is the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met!”

“That’s great Charles, I’m very happy for you. Don’t ask me for help picking out the engagement ring though, I don’t know a thing about jewellery.”

“Ha-ha very funny, but I’m serious Darce. I really like her. I’m really hoping that this is gonna be the one that’s lasts. I know its still early days but I just have a good feeling about it. I hope someday you’ll understand; feel how I’m feeling, you know? I think you might really be missing your chance here with Lizzie. I get that interacting with people makes you anxious sometimes, but I really think you should make the effort here. She could be really good for you. Just pull yourself out of your own head for once; have some fun!” _Yeah, sure I’ll get out of my head Charles. Do you want me to go ahead and sort out Brexit too while you’re requesting the impossible?_

“Charles, just because lightning strikes often for you doesn’t mean it’ll ever strike for me. And I’m okay with that. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Just enjoy your date, have fun. I’m alright on my own.” _Good job Will, that should hold him over. Then maybe he’ll take the hint and stop forcing me to interact with Lizzie. I need to do it at my own pace._

“You’re right, Jane is absolutely incredible. But Lizzie’s very beautiful as well, you have to admit that.” _No, I absolutely do not Charles. I shan’t and you can’t make me._

“I just hate seeing you looking so gloomy all the time. Lizzie’s fun and she’s very pretty. She’s got great energy. And she’s so smart. I really think if you just—”

“I get it Charles, but I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’ll work with Lizzie. She’s just, I don’t know, she’s too—," _Gorgeous, intelligent, absolutely perfect for me in every single way_ , “I don’t know Charles, she just doesn’t do it for me, you know? She’s just not pretty enough to tempt me. She’s too soft, you know, in the belly.” _What. The. Fuck. William. Patrick. Fitzgerald. Darcy. Why did I just say that? I just called her fat. Why did I say that? I didn’t mean that._

“Will, that’s really unkind of you to say. I think maybe you’ve been spending too much time around my sister.” _I sure as hell hope not, but fuck if you’re not wrong._ He started to walk away from me. I moved to follow until I realized he was walking towards Jane and Lizzie, who were standing about six feet away, each with two drinks in their hands. I recognized the one in Lizzie’s left hand as an Old Fashioned. My Old Fashioned. She bought me a fresh drink and I more or less insulted her to her face. There’s no way she didn’t hear me. _This is why I hate clubs, they’re too loud. I have to yell to carry on a conversation. God, if you’re up there, I wish the ground to open up and deposit me straight into Hell where I belong, please and thank you._ I walked towards them slowly. Lizzie stuck her left hand out for me to take my drink from her.

“I got you a fresh one. Seemed like you’d been working on that one for a long time. The ice’s all melted.” I downed the rest of the glass I had previously been working on. She was right, it was watery. She must have been keeping as close an eye on me as I had been on her. Strange.

“Thank you.” I took the new drink from her. She turned and walked away, heading back towards the bar area where it appeared Charles and Jane had gone to sit down. I followed, taking long draughts from the glass Lizzie had handed me. It was nearly empty by the time I reached them. I set my empty glass down on the bar, knowing all too well that my current drink would be joining it soon. But for the time being at least, I had something to occupy my mouth. Maybe that’ll keep me from saying something else stupid or insensitive.

“What have you been up to all night Will? Have you been out dancing? I feel like we’ve barely seen you all night.” Jane asked when I caught up to them.

“Darcy’s not a huge fan of nightclubs. He doesn’t like pop music. Or dancing. At least, not anymore. He only goes to them if I drag him, kicking and screaming. He didn’t always used to be such a wallflower, if you can believe it. He could really tear up the dance floor when we were at uni, right Darce?” He laughed. _Drunk Charles really doesn’t know how to keep things to himself._

“I can’t even picture that. This guy doing the cupid shuffle at a college party? No way!” _Have I really made such a terrible impression on her? I mean yeah, I guess I have._ Lizzie laughed along with Charles. _I deserved that. I deserved that. I deserved that_.

“He sure could! But not anymore. He’s a serious businessman now and he only does serious businessman things. Like make spreadsheets and flow charts.” _Alright the jokes can stop now Charles. He knows damn well why I don’t feel comfortable letting loose anymore. He knows what happened last time._ The bartender called Last Call and the DJ put on the last song of the night.

“Oh, excellent! Last song of the night and it’s Jonas Brothers. Well I’m going back out for one last dance. Whadiya say Will? You wanna come with, show us all those dance moves Charles says you’re hiding?” She leant over, getting much closer to me than I was prepared for, eyebrow cocked again. “Or am I not pretty enough to tempt you?” She whispered it right into my ear. I shivered. She didn’t give me time to respond – she already knew the answer. She smirked at me and walked back to the dance floor. _Follow her! C’mon legs, move!_ Charles and Jane went out after her, leaving me alone again. I downed the rest of my drink and settled up the tab Charles had started upstairs. I scheduled the cab to pick us up in five minutes and realized we’d have to track down Caroline. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ I ground the heels of my hands into my eyes. When I took my hands away, Caroline had appeared at my side. _Well, speak of the Devil and she shall appear. God, when I said I wanted to go to Hell, this isn’t quite what I had in mind._ She leant against the bar, looking out at the dance floor, at her brother and Jane as they danced with Lizzie.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, Will.” _Excuse me? What is this ‘we’ business?_ “Charles falls in love too easily. Jane seems sweet enough, but I don’t know about that sister of hers. I wouldn’t put it past her to involve her sister in some scheme. Try to get Charles to part with some of our money. Americans, they’re all so greedy.” _That’s rich coming from you Caroline, seeing as you’ve been after my money since you were eleven fucking years old._ However, I had to admit that she wasn’t completely wrong. Charles does fall in love too easily. It’s honestly been a miracle that I haven’t had to force a gold digger out of his life yet. I don’t get those kinds of vibes from either Bennet sister, but I’ve been wrong before, horribly wrong, and it cost me dearly. I decided I ought to keep an eye on them, for Charles’ sake, just in case. He’d been in so many relationships in the seven years I’d known him. Maybe Jane will be different, but maybe she won’t. The song ended and the lights came up. Jane, Lizzie, and Charles made their way back to where myself and Caroline were waiting at the bar. We followed the crowd up the stairs and out of the club. The cab arrived a couple minutes later and we got in the same way we had earlier. The nausea returned, but now I wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety, Caroline and her perfume, or the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed. A combination of all three, I expect. The cab took Charles and the girls back to Hanover Terrace first. I didn’t get out. Charles clapped me on the side of my arm as he got out, knowing I knew what he meant by it: we’ll talk tomorrow. As we pulled away, I looked out the rear windscreen. Charles kissed Jane goodnight and hugged Lizzie before following his sister into the house. The Bennet sisters walked arm in arm back towards the park. I felt a pang of jealousy towards my best friend, at the ease with which he interacted with Lizzie while I couldn’t even open my mouth without insulting her. It took about fifteen minutes to get me home to Belgravia. I kicked my trainers off by the door and stumbled up the stairs, reliving every horrible moment of the night in my head with each stair I climbed. I got myself a glass of water and two paracetamol and set them on my bedside table. I collapsed on my bed and reached out to pull the wastebasket closer, just in case. I closed my eyes, but in the darkness, I saw her face. I covered my head with my pillow, but in the silence, I heard her whisper. I slept fitfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been doing some editing. Sorry I ended up making this chapter almost 1000 words longer :D


	4. The Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane's appendix bursts and Darcy wants to comfort Lizzie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy this got longer. Another victim of pandemic edits. Sorry in advance, I think I added nearly 1200 words!
> 
> Our boy Will likes movie scores and gets bad hangovers.

Chapter 3: The Hospital

I woke to my alarm the next morning feeling worse than I had in a while. _Ugh_ , _this is why I hate tequila. I always feel like shit after I drink it. It was definitely just the tequila that was the culprit. Not the six Old Fashioneds I had. At least I ate before we went out._ I took the paracetamol I had left out for myself, feeling grateful that past me hadn’t been too fucked up to look out for future me. Remembering the events of the previous night, however, reminded me that I shouldn’t be too proud of past me. _I can’t believe I said that. What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck is wrong with me? And she fucking heard me say it. Oh my god she fucking heard me say it. I wish I would have blacked out so I wouldn’t have to live with this memory._ I stood up from my bed slowly, feeling a little bit dizzy. When the room stopped spinning, I made my way into my ensuite to take a shower. I took a look at myself in the mirror. _God, I look like shit. Maybe I just shouldn’t go into the office today. I’m the boss I can do what I like. And then I can avoid having that conversation with Charles for a bit. I mean it’s not like he won’t make me have it eventually - he knows where I live - but if I don’t go in, I won’t have to have it right away. But what if something happens? No, I need to go in. What if Catherine found out? She’s looking for any reason to try to take the company back. Better to just not give her any. If I don’t go in because I’m too hungover I’m sure she’ll hear about it somehow._ I stripped off my clothes from the previous night and got in the shower. The hot water felt wonderful against my aching muscles. I never sleep comfortably when I fall asleep in my clothes; I can’t curl up – my pants are too tight. I tried to savour the feeling as my back loosened and my shoulders relaxed, but the events of the previous night began to replay in my head again. The shame crept its way through my body like a lioness stalking its prey until it gripped my chest. _Oh God, Charles is probably so pissed at me. Oh man and Jane probably heard it too. She was right there. And even if she didn’t Lizzie must have told her. They all probably think I’m a right piece of shit. I hope I didn’t ruin this for Charles. He’d never forgive me._ I completed my shower routine quickly and got out, the shower stall suddenly feeling about ten times too small. I aggressively towelled my hair dry; the anger coming on as unexpectedly as the claustrophobia. I didn’t bother shaving the small amount of stubble that had grown overnight, nor did I style my hair, letting some of my inner turmoil reflect in my appearance. My eyes, usually a bright-ish blue, were dull, bloodshot and glazed, looking more grey than blue. No one will say anything about it at the office except Charles. Everyone else is too scared. The culture of fear instilled by my aunt has been proving difficult to dismantle, with many of my subordinates too often mistaking my social anxieties for the same disdain that she felt for them. Regardless of the state of my head, my body was impeccably dressed as always. I had gone with my charcoal grey suit today, pairing it with an olive-green tie and a pair of black oxfords. I put on my black wool overcoat, grabbed my briefcase, and headed out the door, feeling anxious once again, just wanting to get to work and throw myself into something mindless to distract me from the continued thoughts of my gaff. I opted against bringing my bike with me, deciding the cold, crisp air provided by a walk along the Thames on an October morning might be just the thing I needed to clear my head. I put in my AirPods and began my short walk to Victoria Station. _I hope Emile is working this morning. He always makes my coffee just right. And fuck do I need a good dose of caffeine right now._ I picked a playlist of softer movie scores; the loud, epic numbers would not mix well with the pounding behind my eyes. The Main Titles from The Little Mermaid carried me through to my first stop: Starbucks. “Mr. Darcy, great to see you this morning. Your usual?” _Thank fuck for you Emile._

“Of course, thank you so much Emile.” He set to work preparing my coffee order. I order the same thing every time: a venti americano with two pumps of vanilla. Charles thinks it’s disgusting, but it’s exactly what I needed this morning; the caffeine of four shots of espresso will nip this hangover in the bud before I even get to the office. “Hey Emile? Could you do that iced instead?" _I definitely don’t have time to wait for that to cool._

“Sure thing, sir!” _God, Emile is the best._ He handed me my drink and I gave him a twenty-pound note.

“Keep the change Emile, you’ve earned it.” He thanked me as I walked out the door and put my AirPods back in. Rey’s Theme from the new Star Wars trilogy was next up. _Ah, good old John Williams, never lets me down._ The relatively short piece of music lasted me my whole walk to Victoria Station. As always, the station was bustling with commuters and tourists. I expertly navigated to my platform, Oyster Card always at the ready. The train arrived and I rushed on, securing myself a seat, as a little treat. I usually stand, but not this morning. _I’m already going to hell for what I said yesterday, it’s not going to make much of a difference in my fate if I’m a little selfish._ I sipped on my coffee absent-mindedly while song after song played. It was gone by Blackfriars.

Around 11 my office door opened and Charles strode in. As always after a night of drinking, he looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, like he’d never even sniffed alcohol in his life. _We’re the same fucking age. Why do I always feel like I’ve contracted the fucking plague but he doesn’t get so much as a damn headache?!_

“C’mon Will, let’s get lunch. We need to talk.” He put his little hands on his little hips to let me know he meant business. He stared at me wordlessly, trying to be intimidating, until I pushed away from my desk and got up. He relaxed as soon as I was away from my desk. He can only pretend to be scary for so long. Any fears I had about our upcoming conversation were immediately allayed. “Jesus, you look like shit. You didn’t even do your hair! How’s Pret sound?” I grabbed my coat and he led the way out of the building and all the way to our destination, with me following close behind, the coffee not having done as much as I had hoped it would to make me feel better. I tried to formulate a defence of my behaviour the previous night during the walk, but nothing was adequate and the hangover was making my brain slow. I had definitely had way too much to drink last night. _Maybe that could be my defence. I was too drunk; I didn’t even mean it. Lizzie’s very beautiful actually, you were totally right Charles. Maybe if I apologise, she’ll give me a second chance and we can double date with you and Jane sometimes. Do we think he’d buy that? No, I’ve never been a mean drunk before. He knows me better than that. He’ll know I’m bullshitting. I’m just going to have to own to it. I insulted the sister of his new girlfriend more or less to her face, entirely unprovoked. I’m just an asshole, there’s nothing for it. Maybe I’m more like Aunt Catherine than I thought. I have no excuse for my behaviour and he knows it. Maybe I should just tell him the truth. Would that be so bad? Maybe he’s right. She could be good for me. I’ve never been in love before, hell I’ve never even really had a girlfriend before! Maybe it’s time I stopped worrying so much about what everyone else wants of me and focus and what I want of me. Do I want to be like my aunt? Closed off and cruel? No. Although, the last time I let myself live and not worry about the consequences I almost lost everything so, maybe, best not. For safety._

We managed to avoid the major lunch rush by getting to Pret early, but as we waited for our food, it became busier and busier. It had warmed up a bit so we decided to stay and eat at one of the tables out front. Charles was kind enough to let me take a couple bites of my ham & cheese before he started on me.

“You wanna tell me what happened last night, Will? By my count you had six drinks plus the tequila shot. I know going out makes you anxious and that you don’t like it, but that seems excessive. Are you okay? Should I be concerned?” _Oh. Wow. I wasn’t quite expecting him to approach it like that. He must think I’m…. That I’m…._

“I’m not an alcoholic Charles, if that’s what you’re driving at. Honestly, I’m not sure what happened last night. I mean, I remember it, I didn’t black out, unfortunately, I just mean that I’m not sure why I acted like that.”

“Jane texted me this morning. She was more concerned than upset, but it seems that Lizzie was more hurt than she let on. Jane said that Lizzie’s been in a bit of mood all day. Jane managed to convince Lizzie to go out shopping with her and Caroline, but if I know Caroline, I’m sure that won’t do much to make Lizzie feel better. You need to apologise to her Darce, the sooner the better.”

“I completely agree Charles. My behaviour was inexcusable. I’m sorry if it’s strained your relationship with Jane or Lizzie at all, it wasn’t my intention. I didn’t intend anything at all, really. I didn’t even know I was going to say it until it was already out of my mouth. Of course, I’ll apologise, next time I see her.”

“Excellent. And maybe—”

“But I’d appreciate it if you would stop playing matchmaker Charles. I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I’m just not convinced that it would work between Lizzie and I. We’re very different people. But I won’t mistreat her. I’m sure we can be civil, for your sake and Jane’s.”

“Oh, alright. I suppose I’ll just have to let nature take its course then – I’m still convinced she’s the one for you, mate, and you can’t make me change my mind on that and – oh, speak of the devil….” His phone was vibrating violently on the table. Lizzie was calling him. “Lizzie what a coincidence I was just…oh God…which A&E...alright just stay calm, I’m on my way.” _Oh shit. That can’t be good._ “Darce we have to go. Jane’s in hospital. Lizzie said they were out shopping and she just collapsed. They took her to the A&E at University College Hospital.” He was frantically gathering the remnants of our lunch, rushing them to the nearest bin. His hands were shaking so violently he almost dropped his phone in with the rubbish. I put my hands on his to steady them before moving them up to his shoulders, then to his face.

“Charles, look at me. Take a breath,” I took a big breath in, held it, and exhaled. I motioned for him to copy me, “Everything is going to be okay. She’s in good hands. Put your coat on. I’ll hail us a cab.”

Charles was texting Lizzie for the entirety of the fifteen-minute cab ride. When the cab pulled around to the A&E entrance, Charles was out of the cab before it’d even parked. I paid the fare and thanked the cabbie, following my friend into the A&E. _God I hate hospitals._ When I entered, Charles had already found Lizzie. She was in tears while Caroline stood nearby, looking around disinterestedly. _Jesus she can’t even pretend to care that her brother’s girlfriend could be deathly ill. She didn’t even tell him. Lizzie had to call him. God, she really is a demon. An absolute sociopath._ Charles pulled Lizzie into a hug and instantly something inside me burned. _Oh no_ _, is this jealousy? Am I jealous? I don’t like this. Get a grip, Will. He’s allowed to hug her. They’re friends. Her sister could be dying. Chill the fuck out, you absolute weirdo._ I was overtaken suddenly by the urge to push Charles out of the way, to take his place. I wanted to hold her close, to take her sweet, sad face in my hands and kiss away her tears. I shook that away, now wasn’t the time for my stupid fantasies. I had to remind myself that she was almost certainly still mad at me. She’s not going to be thrilled when she realizes that I’m here. Unfortunately, Caroline saw me approach.

“Oh, Will it’s just so awful! Poor, sweet Jane! I’m so scared! She just collapsed! What if she dies, Will? Oh, I simply couldn’t bear it!” She threw her arms around my neck before I could dodge her and began sobbing into my coat collar, really putting those drama classes to good use. _Man, she’s really laying it on thick._ Lizzie pulled away from Charles to glare at Caroline, like she was hoping that if she looked at her hard enough, Caroline’s head would explode. _I feel it. I. Feel. It._ Blessedly, Charles let go of Lizzie to take his sister from me. He rubbed her back and she stopped sobbing almost immediately. Lizzie and I made eye contact and I rolled my eyes. I was blessed in return with what was becoming her trademark smirk and eyebrow quirk. _She’s known Caroline for almost no time at all and she already knows she’s bullshit_. Lizzie went to sit on the nearby waiting room sofa and my feet decided to follow. I sat next to her. She was still sniffling a bit but her tears had more or less stopped. I desperately wanted to give her comfort, to put my arm around her and tell her everything would be alright, but I knew it would be unwelcome, despite that little moment of shared exasperation. _I called her ugly more or less to her face. Surely, she must be furious with me. She doesn’t want my comfort. She doesn’t want me here._ Charles and Caroline followed close behind and sat down in the chairs across from us.

“Did the doctors give you any indication of what they think it could be?” _Oh. Wow. I spoke. That was me. Huh. Even Charles looks surprised. Did I grow a second head as well?_

“They, um, they think it could be her appendix. They took her for scans and they said if that’s what it is, she’ll go straight into surgery. She didn’t complain about feeling ill yesterday, but she could have been and just didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to ruin our plans. She was feeling sick for most of the day, but we both thought she was just hungover. She doesn’t have as high of a tolerance for drinking as she does for people. We walked into Waterstones because I wanted to look for a book one of my professors recommended, but I could tell she was feeling worse so I got her to sit while I looked really quick. The next thing I knew, she was on the ground clutching her stomach, crying. I think one of the salespeople called 999. She said it felt like someone was stabbing her in the gut. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.” She leaned her head down and sniffled as Charles reached across to hold her hands. _Oh, there it is again. That burning. I am really not a fan of this jealousy stuff._

“Have you spoken to your parents yet? Are they going to want to come to see her? I can get their plane tickets if you want and find them accommodation, it’s no trouble.” Her head rocketed up, her eyes wide and wild.

“OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO CALL MY PARENTS!! I didn’t call them! I need to call them! How the fuck did I forget to call them?! Oh my God! I didn’t even think. They need to be here. What if something… Oh my god, how do we even pay for this? Does our insurance work? Oh my God, what if our insurance won’t cover this?! I didn’t even think…” She shot up off the sofa, fumbling with her jacket and jeans pockets looking for her phone. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped it on the floor as soon as she fished it from her jeans pocket. _God I just want to hold her. I’ll pay for it. If something happens, if they can’t. I’d do anything for her. She wouldn’t have to know. Charles could say it was him._ She walked away from us to make her phone call. I watched as she paced, tears flowing again as she relayed Jane’s situation to her family. Despite her face being blotchy and puffy from crying, she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, bright red flyaways coming out to frame the sides of her face. She was wearing an olive-green jacket over an oversized navy-blue sweater, the sleeves curled up around her hands. Her black skinny jeans were bunched up above the boots she wore the previous night, the ones Caroline found so objectionable. As I stared, I was vaguely aware of Charles and Caroline speaking. Caroline appeared to be attempting to work herself up again to shift my attention onto her, but Charles pulled her in again when she restarted her histrionics.

“Charles, I want to go home.” She said through her faked short breaths. Charles stood, bringing Caroline up with him.

“Alright, let me tell Lizzie we’re going. Darce, I’ll stop by the office before I come back and grab our stuff and let everyone know we won’t be back in today. You should stay here with Lizzie in case, well, just in case…” _Something awful happens._

“Oh no Charles, you should stay here. You should be here for Jane when she gets out of the surgery. Will can take me home. He’ll take good care of me.” Caroline chimed in, leering at me as much as she could get away with given her “emotional state”. _Not on your life Caroline. Not on your fucking life._

“Nonsense Caroline, you’re my little sister, I’m responsible for you. Besides, it’s going to be ages before she’s out of surgery. I’ll be back well before that. And if anything changes, Will or Lizzie will let us know right away, right?” I nodded. “Okay then, I’ll be back in an hour or so. And maybe now might be a good time for you to do that thing we were talking about before.” _Subtle. Yes Charles, I will apologise to Lizzie before you get back._ Charles led Caroline over to Lizzie, who was hanging up with her family as they approached. Charles hugged her again, presumably informed her of his plans, and led Caroline out of the hospital. Lizzie turned back in my direction and visibly started. _She must have forgotten I was here. Did he not tell her I was staying? Or maybe she thought Charles was kidding._ After a beat, she walked back into the waiting area, looking between the seats Charles and Caroline had just vacated and her previous spot at my side. Wiping her eyes, she quirked her eyebrow at me again, like she was challenging me, but to what, I wasn’t sure. I held her gaze for about a minute before she decided I wasn’t going to rise to the bait. She took her spot back, stretching her short legs out in front of her like she had in the cab the previous night. She took her jacket off and draped it over the back of the sofa in the space between us. After a bit she brought her legs back in, sort of curling in on herself, releasing a sigh that was heavy with the weight of her whole world. I crossed my arms, gripping them tightly, again fighting the urge to put an arm around her. We sat in silence, me staring at the wall and her staring at the floor. It was at least five minutes before she spoke up.

“So. Are we gonna talk about it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles doesn't really have small hands, Will just sees him trying to be scary and instead sees a newborn kitten trying to meow really loud and can't take him seriously. But Charles has big hands. And big other things ;P


	5. A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie and Darcy wait for news about Jane. Darcy opens up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two updates in one week! I'm on fire!  
> Possible warnings needed here. They are as follows:  
> death, discussion of hallucinations/ghosts, alcoholism, anxiety attacks, slight discussion of rape - nothing explicit, the victim is underage, and a general warning that this whole scene takes place in a hospital and I know I'm not the only one that gets the creeps from hospitals.
> 
> Darcy is a very sad boi in this chapter, but he still manages to mess things up with Lizzie.
> 
> Update 6/3/2020 - hi everyone! i've been cleaning up the chapters a bit, doing some rewrites to help the creative juices flow. this chapter got considerably longer and a little bit sadder. sorry. also as i write this, america is really seriously fucked. trump is probably going to institute martial law if the protests continue. that being said, fuck trump, fuck racists, fuck white supremacists, black lives matter. stand together y'all and stay strong!

Chapter 4: A Conversation

I hate hospitals. The three worst days of my life so far were spent in hospitals, not as a patient but as an interloper, waiting impatiently for news that, each time, broke me a little bit more. The first was the day my sister was born. It was not her arrival which was the unhappy event, but what came after. I had begged and begged my parents for a sibling. I was so lonely. I mean I had friends, a friend, I had _him_ , but _he_ couldn’t be with me all the time. I wanted someone that would always be there, when mum and dad were out or at work. Someone else to play with at family parties besides Anne, who was always too sick, and Richard, who was always pulling pranks and blaming them on me. I wanted someone to run Pemberley’s halls with, someone to tease and to teach and to love and to love me in return, just as I was. I was so selfish, only wanting a new life, a whole new person, to be brought into this world for my amusement, for company, just so I wouldn’t be so alone. I never considered that there could be consequences. I was eight. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that giving birth could kill someone. I never considered that, in 2002, it was even possible for someone to die in childbirth. That seems like such a relic of the past. We have trained doctors, nurses, midwives, and state-of-the-art hospitals, but a woman that has access to all of that can still bleed to death after bringing a child into the world. It seemed like doctors could do just about anything, but they couldn’t save my mum. She had something called a placental abruption. She gave birth to my sister and then she bled to death and they couldn’t stop it. I didn’t even get to see her, didn’t get to say goodbye – it all happened so fast. I didn’t want to be in the room with my parents while Georgie was born, I thought it was gross. So, I waited. I waited with my uncle and my cousin Richard and _him_ and my mother died and it was my fault. If I hadn’t been so selfish...

My father didn’t cope well. Neither of us did. I used to see her. I had wanted someone to run the halls of Pemberley with me, instead I got a ghost to chase me through them. I saw her everywhere. She haunted me for years. Like she blamed me. Like I blamed myself. Eventually, the hallucinations and panic attacks got so bad - my father was in no state to help me - my Aunt had to arrange for me to go to therapy. Georgiana needed me and I was in no real state to look out for her. My father did the best he could, in the beginning. He took mum’s loss hard and then about a year later he lost his best friend in a plane crash. That’s how _he_ ended up living with us. After that everything went downhill fast. At first, he kept working but before too long control of the company was given to Aunt Catherine. She made sure the house was fully staffed so we would be well looked after. We had nannies to care for us, but I always liked looking after Georgie. She was such a good baby, never too fussy, always slept well. She always laughs at my jokes and makes sure I eat. She’d follow me to hell and back if I asked her to without hesitation. She really is the best little sister a big brother could ask for. As the years went on, father became more and more distant. He stopped hugging us, stopped asking how we were doing, stopped joining us for meals. I was twelve when I first realized he was drinking. I was learning about alcohol and drugs in school and the symptoms of alcoholism were there, had been for a while but I didn’t know to look. He would hide in his study, the door locked, for hours and hours and when he came out, he was glassy-eyed and stumbly. Sometimes I would hear him crying, but I never tried to comfort him or confront him about his drinking. I was too scared. I tried to hide it from Georgie but as she got older, she knew that dad wasn’t okay. Eventually he reached a point where he decided he couldn’t do it anymore. He emptied the decanter of whisky he always kept full in his study, got in his car and drove. He was barely alive when he was brought to hospital after wrapping his car around a lamp post. I was sixteen. Georgiana was eight. They did what they could for him, but it’s hard to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. I wasn’t allowed to see him. They said I shouldn’t have to have that image in my head. The funeral was closed casket. At sixteen I was an orphan and care of myself, Georgiana, and _him_ fell to Aunt Catherine and the Brigadier – Richard’s father. Aunt Catherine bore the brunt of the duties, the Brigadier had deemed his commitments to the Armed Forces to be greater than those of his family, not that he was ever a particularly attentive father to Richard when he was around. Catherine was just as hands-off as he would have been, she was still running my father’s company after all. I was the last to turn eighteen and when I did, we petitioned to get guardianship of Georgiana transferred to us. Aunt Catherine and the Brigadier didn’t fight us on it – they never truly wanted the responsibility in the first place. We had been both been offered a place at Cambridge and we took them, found a nice place nearby, got Georgie enrolled in a good school. It felt like things were looking up. It was like in that Disney movie with the weird blue alien - our family was little and broken, but it was good.

The last time I was in a hospital was when Georgie was… when she… when _he_ hurt her and I wasn’t there. I didn’t protect her. I thought… she should have been safe with _him_. _He_ had made a promise to protect her, just as I had. We were _family_ , for fuck’s sake. _He_ was our brother in every way but blood. We gave _him_ everything. When _his_ marks slipped, I tutored _him_. When _he_ fell in with the wrong crowd and started gambling, I paid _his_ debts and got _him_ help. We spent so much of our lives together, just the three of us. I should have seen it. I should have signs, if _he_ looked at her strangely or touched her in a way _he_ shouldn’t have. She was thirteen. Thirteen years old when _that cunt_ put _his_ hands on her. And I wasn’t there. I should have been there. Charles had invited me to go to Brighton with him for the weekend because I told him that I’d never been to a fair or gone a rollercoaster before. We never did anything like that when we were kids. Before Georgie was born, we would visit Aunt Catherine’s estate in France during the summer hols, but that was all the vacation we ever took. Father’s commitments to his work were always too great and mum always had some charity do to plan. After mum died, well, dad was in no state to take us anywhere and I wasn’t going to leave him in that big, empty house by himself. Charles couldn’t believe it; I know he must have felt that I was deprived of a childhood and in a way I really was. His family went to Brighton at least twice every summer, in addition to other trips throughout the year. So it was settled, we went to Brighton and we rode the rollercoaster and we walked the pier and played games in the arcade and I experienced my first fun-fair and all the while _he_ was hurting my sister. I was having fun while that _piece of dog shit_ raped my thirteen-year-old sister. I had never left overnight by myself before, we always travelled together. I got home and _he_ was gone and she was…. Charles drove us to the hospital. I sat with her and Charles sat with me and that was when I knew that he was a true friend. He was the brother I should have had, the brother I deserved. I wouldn’t have gotten through without him and Georgie wouldn’t have gotten through without me. Of course, Aunt Catherine had to get involved. Said she never should have given up the guardianship, acted like she saw it coming, like she always knew what _he_ was. She wouldn’t let me press charges. She was so concerned about the _scandal_. What would people _say_? She was always good at that – keeping the Darcy name scandal free. She paid the hospital a disgusting amount of money to lose Georgiana’s test results and examination report – she kept a copy for herself, of course, just in case. She hushed up Georgiana’s assault like she hushed up father’s accident. He fell asleep at the wheel, tragic business really. His poor children, he loved them so. She eventually managed to track _him_ down. Gave _him_ money to go away, to never darken our doorstep again, to never speak of what _he’d_ done. We won’t tell if you won’t. I expect _he’ll_ gamble it all away before _he’s_ thirty. It’s bullshit. If it were up to me, _he’d_ be six feet under at the furthest corner of Pemberley’s property so every now and then I could walk out and piss on _his_ grave, but we can’t always get what we want. Instead _he’s_ who knows where, _breathing_ , _living_.

Now here I am again, sitting in a hospital waiting area, with the girl I am definitely a lot a bit attracted to, who I insulted without reason yesterday, waiting to hear if her sister, my best friend’s girlfriend, is going to be alright. I learned in therapy that everyone deals with stressful situations differently. Some people, like myself, internalise it, keep the stress inside until it eats you up and breaks you down. Other people try and distract themselves from the stress altogether, if they don’t focus on it, then it isn’t there, it can’t hurt them. Lizzie appeared to be one of those people.

“So. Are we gonna talk about it?” _I’d rather we didn’t. What am I supposed to say? Sorry I said you were ugly, I didn’t mean it, I’m actually incredibly attracted to you but I’m bad at talking to people because I have anxiety and also past trauma that makes it difficult for me to open up to people and let them in so instead I act like a dick to push people away rather than letting them in because I don’t want to get hurt again?_

“Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t. I can’t do anything for Jane and I can’t just sit here in silence. We can’t sit here making small talk, pretending the elephant isn’t in the room either, so we might as well talk.” _She’s got a point. You can do this, Will. It’s so simple. Two words. I’m sorry. You say it all the time. You’re British, it’s inscribed in your DNA. Big deep breath. Just say it. You promised Charles you would._

“I’m, um, I’m sorry.” I said quietly.

“What? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” she gave me her trademark look and I realised what she was doing.

“Are you taking the piss? I’m not a child. This is what my grammar school teacher did to us, made us fully articulate how we had fucked up to the person we upset. Do you even want my apology or do you just want revenge? Do you think I don’t already feel bad enough? I had too much to drink, I said something mean, I’m sorry your feelings got hurt but that doesn’t give you the right to take the piss when I’m genuinely trying to apologise. Accept it or don’t, I don’t care anymore.” _What the fuck?! What are you doing?! Getting mad isn’t helping anything. Its just going to make her mad and then we’re going to fight and then she’ll tell Jane and Jane will tell Charles and Charles will be upset with me. I can’t even use alcohol as an excuse, I’m stone-cold sober. Idiot. Moron. Dipshit. Arsehole._

“Chill the fuck out bro, I was just teasing you. Obviously, that was a mistake. You know what, I’m just, I’m gonna…” She grabbed her jacket from its place between us on the sofa and moved to stand up. _Oh shit, fuck, no, wait._ My hand shot out and caught her wrist before I was fully aware that I had done it.

“Lizzie, please just, wait. I’m sorry. Don’t go, let me explain, please?” she eyed me sceptically for a moment before slowly sitting back down, although she didn’t relinquish the grip on her jacket. “I really did have too much to drink last night. I know its not an adequate excuse for my behaviour then or now, but I’ve had a terrible hangover all day. My head is pounding, I didn’t sleep well and it’s made me irritable. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. But I do mean it, the apology. I am sorry for what I said last night. I didn’t mean it, not truly. Charles does this to me a lot, he starts seeing someone new and he tries to set me up with her friend or co-worker or sister or whatever and I was just trying to get him to back off. He means well, I know he just wants me to be happy or whatever, but he just tries too hard. I thought if I said something really shocking it would get the message across finally, you know, so he’d stop, just let me figure things out for myself. But I never intended for you to hear that. I didn’t intend to hurt you, I just wanted him to back off. I know that doesn’t excuse it, but I’m just, I’m not explaining myself well, am I?”

“Yes and no. So, you didn’t mean it because you were very drunk, but maybe you meant it a little because otherwise Charles wouldn’t have believed you and backed off, and I was never supposed to hear it, but you also weren’t in a presence of mind to check that I wasn’t nearby before you screamed it in Charles’ face. Is this a habit with you then? You said he sets you up whenever he starts dating someone new. So, are you just throwing insults left and right at innocent and unsuspecting women on the regular to discourage them from engaging with you or was I just really unlucky?” _Jesus Christ._

“Actually, I usually just don’t talk at all. They get bored trying to engage with me and move on to more receptive partners. But that’s not always on them. I’ve, well, I’ve never been very good at talking to strangers, really.”

“So, you’re shy?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“But how can you be shy? You run an international PR firm. You have to talk to strangers all the time, it’s literally like, your entire job.”

“Yes, well that’s different. Work is work. Socialising is a whole different monster.”

“So, what you’re really saying is that you’re bad at talking to girls.” _Oh, for fuck’s sake._

“Again, is that not what shy means? Are you teasing me again? Because I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t in the mood for that.” She giggled.

“Sorry. I don’t think I’m doing it on purpose. You’re just easy.”

“I can assure you I most certainly am not. I don’t put out until at least the third date.” _Ha, the virgin making a sex joke, good one._ Lizzie was silent for a moment and I worried I had been a bit too forward. After all, we had been arguing not five minutes before and I insulted her not even a whole twenty-four hours ago. Suddenly, a laugh burst from her lips and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. It was somehow loud and breathy at the same time, like a wheezy bark. It devolved into giggles and I began to laugh along with her. Her giggling didn’t last long before it turned into a series of rapid, short breathy noises. I stopped laughing. She began swiping at her eyes again, she was crying, her breath started coming in shorter and quicker. _Oh no. I know what this is._ She took her glasses off and set them on the table next to her. She put her head in her hands and pulled at her bun until it came out. She continued to breathe quickly, on the verge of hyperventilation. Without thinking I reached out, dropping my hand on her shoulder. She recoiled as soon as my hand landed. _Okay, she doesn’t like being touched during attacks. We have that in common at least._ I got up from the sofa and knelt down in front of her.

“Lizzie. Lizzie, I need you to look at me. You’re having a panic attack. Have you ever had one before?” She nodded. “Okay, I need you to copy me, do what I’m doing so we can get your breathing back under control, alright? Just look at me, okay? Big breath in, hold it, let it out. Again. Good. That’s good, do it again. Keep trying Lizzie, I know you can do it. You’re doing so good. Big breath. Hold. Good. Exhale. I know it’s hard, just a couple more. That’s it.” She continued to copy my breathing until hers had slowed to a less dangerous pace. Tears were streaming fast down her face and all I wanted to do was pull her close, hold her head to my chest until she was herself again, stroke her hair, make everything better. But I didn’t. A so far unaccepted apology and a shared laugh didn’t mean that I had earned that. I kept my distance, knelt down in front of her but never touching. She held my gaze, wiping at her tears and continuing to match my breathing. I reached over to the table to grab the tissue box that was there. They were those awful, sandpaper tissues that seem to be standard issue to all hospitals. I was all too familiar with their roughness, so unsuited to their task. She grabbed about five before she blew her nose; she knows better too. A few more minutes passed between us in relative silence as she continued to collect herself, the only sound coming from our breathing and her nose-blowing. There was a rubbish bin on the other side of the table; I moved it so it was closer to her. I could sense the questions, circling under the surface like sharks. She’s going to want to know. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she finally spoke.

“How’d… how’d you know? How’d you know how to get it to stop?” _Okay, you can do this Darcy. You can tell her. You want to change her perception of you? You want to be her friend? Just tell her. Friends tell each other things._

“W-when, um, when I was a kid, I, uh, I, um, I used to have, um, attacks like that. Where I couldn’t breathe. It was after, um, after…” _You’re being very articulate. Good job._ “It was after my mum died.” My eyes found hers and I didn’t like what I saw there: pity. Her face softened.

“Oh. Will I’m…”

“Don’t. Don’t say you’re sorry, please. I hate people telling me that they’re sorry. What is there to be sorry over? You didn’t even know her. And you certainly didn’t kill her. I…” _I killed her._

“You, what? Will?” _Well, in for a penny._

 _“_ I killed her. I killed my mum.” _Should probably explain that, pal. ‘I killed my mum’ is an expression that requires expounding. She’s going to think you’re crazy._

“Explain.”

“She died… she died shortly after giving birth to my sister. I had begged them; I had begged my parents for a sibling. I was so alone and I wanted someone. I just wanted someone that I didn’t have to… I was tired of trying. The kids at school didn’t like me, I didn’t really have friends and I just thought, you know, if I had a little brother or sister, they’d have to be my friend. And they’d have to listen to me and they’d do what I wanted to do. I have two cousins and their both older and my dad’s best friend had a son that was my age but he was still older than me – no one ever listened to me because I was the youngest, and I… I don’t know. I guess I just thought, I looked up to my cousin Richard so much when I was little, I thought he was so cool, and I guess I just wanted someone to look at me the same way. Someone who would always think I was smart and cool and funny, even when I wasn’t, you know? But I was eight. I was a kid and kids a selfish because they don’t understand that actions have consequences. When mum got pregnant, I was so happy. I so focused on my own happiness and all the fun I was going to have. And then she went into labour and we went to the hospital and she gave birth to my little sister and then mum died. She just started bleeding and they couldn’t make it stop. She gave birth to my little sister and then she was dead an hour later and I didn’t,” _c’mon man keep it together, don’t cry_ , “I didn’t get to say goodbye. And then after that I started seeing her. The hallucinations came with panic attacks, because seeing your dead mum is obviously fucking terrifying. My aunt got me into therapy after about a month or so after it was clear that they weren’t going to go away on their own. That’s how I learned the breathing techniques and how to recognise what one looks like when it happens.” My hands hurt and I realized I had been wringing them the entire time I was speaking. I pulled them apart and my palms were nearly as red as Lizzie’s hair. I studied her face as my words settled in her mind, as she tried to formulate an appropriate response to the near total stranger who insulted her the day before revealing that he used to see the ghost of his dead mother, who’s death he holds himself accountable for, and have panic attacks over it.

“Oh Will… Will that’s… Will, you didn’t kill your mom. Women die in childbirth sometimes, even now, and like 90% of the time it’s totally sudden. You can’t blame yourself for that. You were a kid.” She tentatively reached out, placing her small hands on top of mine.

“Yeah. I know that. I was in therapy for most of my adolescence. Fear and grief aren’t rational. I know I didn’t literally kill her, I’m not an idiot.” _Defensive is a bad way to go here. She’s trying to be comforting. You’re making things bad again._ She withdrew her hands and I looked up at her. Frustration was evident on her face.

“I know you’re not…” she sighed heavily, running her hands over her face, “I know you’re not an idiot, Will. That’s not what…I just… you know what? Just forget it. Thanks for sticking around, but I think I’ll be fine by myself until Charles gets back. You can leave now.” _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why? Why the fuck? I fucking hate everything. Why the fuck?!_ I stood up, not wanting to linger in a place I wasn’t wanted. I knew I should stay – Charles wanted me to stay with her – but if I stayed, I’d just make it worse. I made my way towards the exit, but my path was blocked by Charles. He had my bag in one hand and his in the other, a worried expression on his face.

“Will! Where are you going? Is Lizzie okay? Have you heard anything about Jane yet?” _Answers: to hell. She will be once I’m gone. No._

“I was just, ah, going to get some air. I’ll, uh, I’ll be back in a mo. She’s in the same spot, if you want to go sit with her. I’ll be back.” I took my bag from him and walked out the door. There was a bench nearby so I sat down. I checked my messages, but nothing was important. _Nothing for it then, I just have to sit here until she’s calmed down enough that I feel safe going back in. Charles will be a good distraction. Should be safe in a couple minutes._ The area around University College Hospital was busy and noisy. The sounds of the city whirled around me as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the bench. My head still hurt. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I didn’t get to finish my lunch. I checked the pockets of my laptop bag; Georgiana always stuffs granola bars and little packets of crisps in my bag when she’s home, so I’ll always have a snack handy when I inevitably forget to eat. It doesn’t happen as much now that I have Charles’ stomach to set mine by when we’re at work, but, sure enough, after rooting through the pockets I found a small bag of Roast Beef Monster Munch. They were mostly crushed, but they hit the spot for the moment. I discarded the empty bag in a nearby rubbish bin and walked back in to the hospital. Lizzie was on the phone again; she looked agitated but at least this time it wasn’t my fault. Charles was sat next to her. _Took my spot, the little shit._ She was speaking to her parents again, that much I gathered from what I could hear. After a bit she ended the call and sighed loudly. She made like she wanted to throw her phone across the room, but she caught herself at the last second.

“Well, they’ll be here tomorrow. All of them. I told mom she didn’t need to take my sisters out of school for this. Jane’s going to be fine, but she’s acting like Jane was shot or something, like she’s on death’s fucking door. The girls don’t need this. Katy’s struggling enough as it is. Mary has such a heavy course load this year. She’s taking a couple college classes, plus her ACT and SAT prep courses, she’s got so much going on. She wants to go to the University of Notre Dame, but it’s so expensive, with out of state tuition, they won’t be able to afford it if she doesn’t get at least a half-ride, otherwise she’ll have to take out student loans that she’ll never be able to pay back. And Lydia, who’s going to keep Lydia from wandering off with the first man that gives her the time of day? She needs a full-time babysitter. I have classes, I have homework and shit. And they won’t want to stay in with Jane all day. Dad won’t be any help; he’ll just be working the whole damn time. Maybe dad will talk some sense into her before the tickets are bought, he’s gotta know there’s no way they’ll be able to manage the three of them and take care of Jane.” _She’s got four sisters? That’s too many. Her house must be absolute chaos all the time._

“Is there anything I can do to help? They can stay with me, if you think your parents would be okay with that. I’ve got more than enough room. That way they won’t have to worry about finding enough space for everyone at a hotel. In fact, I was going to ask, I mean, well, I think it would be a good idea if Jane stayed with me while she recovers. It’ll be much more comfortable than the dormitory.”

“Oh, Charles that’s so kind of you, but you really don’t have to do that.” _Yeah, he’s not going to listen._

“Nonsense Lizzie I absolutely insist. There’s no point in them spending money that they don’t need to spend.”

“But, what about Caroline? Don’t you think you should ask her?”

“Caroline’s money didn’t pay for the house. Mine did, therefore, I decide who is allowed to stay and I am insisting that your family is perfectly welcome in my home. If nothing else, it’ll liven the place up a bit, yes?” _You’re biting off more than you can chew, Charles._

“I mean, you’re not wrong…”

“Excellent. Let your parents know it’s all settled. Caroline and I will have to do a bit of cleaning tonight and tomorrow, of course, and I need to get a mattress for that one room, but I’m sure I can get it sorted in time.” Lizzie fired off a quick text to one of her parents and then relaxed back into the sofa. We sat in relative silence for about ten or so minutes before a young woman in scrubs walked into the waiting area.

“Jane Bennet’s family?” Lizzie stood up and waved her over. I checked my watch; it had only been about an hour and a half since Lizzie had called Charles and we rushed over from Pret. _It feels like I’ve been here all day. Quick surgery, that’s either really good or really bad. She doesn’t look exhausted, must have been uneventful. She’d probably be more wore out if things went the other way._ “Jane’s out of surgery. It was her appendix, as we thought. We caught it in the nick of time. Another day and it probably would have burst. She’ll need to stay overnight for observation, but if she has a good night, she’ll be discharged tomorrow. She’s in recovery now, but she’s still sedated so it will probably be a few more hours before she wakes up if you want to…” She didn’t finish. Lizzie and Charles were already headed down the hall, following the signs leading them to the recovery area. I stayed there for a few extra moments, thanked the surgeon for her help. I contemplated following them, but there was work to be done now that Charles had offered to house Lizzie’s family at Hanover Terrace for the duration of Jane’s recovery. I grabbed my laptop bag and walked out of the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i italicized the 'he', 'his', 'him' when Darcy thinks of Wickham because even in his own thoughts he can't bear to say that man's name. it's like a voldemort thing. it's his version of 'he-who-must-not-be-named'.


	6. Unfortunately not an update, but an author's note

Hi Everyone!

First of all, I want to thank everyone that has read Only Human so far. You are all absolute icons and I'm so grateful. I'm incredibly sorry that the update is taking forever. I'm finding this chapter to be very difficult to write, but it's important to the overall arc so it must be written. The COVID-19 crisis has affected my life, as it has for just about everyone, in very unfortunate ways. I was laid off from my full-time job. I was able to find some part-time work at a grocery store, but my hours have been cut down from 20 to 5. This week my shift was actually removed from the schedule so now I don't know when I'll work next. I've been sheltering-in-place with my family since the end of March and it's not been great for my mental health. My parents think COVID-19 is not as big a deal as everyone says it is, which upsets me for several reasons, chief among them being that my mother worked as an RN for nearly thirty years before she had to retire. She should know better, but she seriously thinks the US should just reopen and if people die, then oh well. 

I know many people are turning to fanfiction for entertainment than ever before during the pandemic so, rest assured, I will get you more content as soon as I can.

The next chapter will feature Darcy meeting the rest of the Bennets, Caroline and Lizzie having a sass-off, and the introduction of that asshole George Wickham. 

Thank you all for your patience and your support!

I love you all! Stay safe!!

♥♥Taylor♥♥


	7. Friends Help Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Darcy is a good friend and he has a good friend. Friends help friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!!  
> I know this update took FOREVER and it's not quite what I promised, but it features some wholesome Darcy/Bingley friendship content.  
> Unbeta'd as always, but if anyone would like to do that for me don't hesitate to let me know. Maybe you can help me stick to an update schedule too :P
> 
> I love you all and as always, don't forget to leave a kudos or comment or BOTH! I live and breathe for an email from AO3 letting me know someone liked what I've done
> 
> <3 Taylor

Chapter 5: Friends Help Friends

Instead of going home, I took a cab to the Ikea in Wembley. All of the guest rooms at Hanover Terrace needed fresh bedding and Charles didn’t have nearly enough towels to accommodate such a large family. He also needed a new mattress for the one room that was suspiciously missing it. We were able to negotiate for the inclusion of the majority of the furnishings when Charles purchased Hanover Terrace – his last place had been a rental and the furniture, save a few small appliances, electronics, and knick-knacks, had been there when he moved in and stayed when he left – but this one bedroom was, oddly, missing the mattress. I can only assume that, given the area and the temperaments of many wealthy men, something illegal happened in that room, although I go back and forth over whether it was a murder, a sexual assault, or, horrifically, possibly both. The seller did wish to remain anonymous through the entire process and seemed all too happy to be rid of the place, but I digress. I picked out six bedding sets in neutral colours, nothing too crazy – light blues, light browns, creams. I grabbed some extra pillows and pillowcases as well. I had to grab a store attendant to help me with a second and third cart once I got to the towels. His name was Michael. He’s a student at King’s College. Arsenal fan, but I told him I wouldn’t hold it against him. He helped me arrange delivery of a new mattress, ensuring it would be at Charles’ by midday the next day. He got me all rung up and helped me load everything into another cab. All in all, a very pleasant trip to Ikea. I was about halfway to Charles’ house when I suddenly remembered something horrible – Caroline. Charles had taken Caroline home. Home. To Hanover Terrace. The place where I was going. _Well, fuck._ _She’s not going to be any help. I bet he hasn’t even told her yet that the Bennets are coming to stay with them. I don’t want to be the one to tell her that. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she won’t be home. She could have gone back out shopping or to yoga or something. God, I hope she’s not home._ We pulled up to Hanover Terrace and the cabbie was kind enough to help me bring my bags into the house; I gratefully slid a hundred-pound note into his hand before he got back in his car. The noise of bags dropping in the entryway unfortunately alerted not only Caroline to my presence, but her stupid dog as well.

“Fuck off Gooch. If you piss on these bags, I’ll let you wander into traffic.” Gucci was snotting all over the bags as he sniffed them with his stupid, flat pug face. Caroline came slinking down the stairs in yoga pants and a sports bra.

“Oh Will! I didn’t know you were coming by! Is everything okay at the hospital, I haven’t heard from Charles.” _You don’t have to pretend like you give a shit Caroline, your brother isn’t here._ “What’s all this for? Why did you get so much stuff from Ikea?”

“Your brother has very kindly offered to put Jane and her family up here while she recovers from her surgery. So, I bought bedding for the guest rooms, along with extra pillows and towels. I also bought a new mattress for the room that’s missing it. It’ll be here round midday tomorrow. I’m going to get started getting this stuff washed. When you get back from your run, you need to take your things up to your room. I don’t care if you actually unpack everything, but it can’t stay down here any longer. I’ll move Charles’ things up to his room and then we can get started unpacking the rest of the things down here. Whether you like it or not Caroline, you’re going to have seven people staying with you for at least a week and we only have about 24 hours to make this place liveable. So, enjoy your run, but when you get back you better be ready to work.” She stared at me for a moment, eyes wide, like she either couldn’t believe that I just spoke to her like that or like she couldn’t believe that I just asked her to do any amount of physical labour. She opened her mouth, ready to either attempt an argument or to complain about the Bennets, but I put my hand up to silence her before she could get the words out.

“Caroline, please, I’m not in the mood to argue with you. Like I said, whether you like it or not, Charles has decided to open his home to Jane’s family while she recovers. It’s his home and he can do what he likes with it. He doesn’t require your permission. You’re an adult and he allows you to live here – he moved here so _you_ could be closer to school. He does everything for you, he looks out for you, pays for your school, pays for your food and your clothes and your phone and he never asks for anything from you. Can you, just this once, do something for him without causing a fuss? Just make this place liveable and be nice to these people. For Charles. It’s just a fucking week, it won’t kill you.” She continued to look at me, the disbelief at my audacity, _the audacity_ , radiating from her features, but then she wordlessly grabbed Gucci’s lead, hooked it to his collar, slipped on her trainers, and walked out the door. I took as many bags in hand as I could and headed to the utility room to get started. As I wrestled with the packaging on the one and only bedding set I had grabbed – I had managed to grab all of the pillows, but only one bag of towels and only one bedding set - I thought back on my confrontation with Lizzie at A&E. _I can’t believe I told her all of that. The only people who know those things are Charles and my remaining family members. And_ him _of course, the prat. Why did I snap at her? She probably hates me more now than she did before. She was vulnerable and she was scared and she let me help her. And in return, I snapped at her. I opened up to her and then immediately shut back down. I hope Charles won’t mind if I steer clear of this place for the week. Give things time to cool off. Also, I really don’t want to meet Lizzie’s family in these circumstances. This sounds like it’s going to be a nightmare and the last thing anyone needs is me and my big mouth making things worse. And it will, it always does._ I went back for the rest of the bags. I sorted through everything once it was all in the utility room – the bedding and extra pillowcases in one pile, towels in the next, and pillows in a third. Charles’ utility room had a washer and dryer set-up that I could only describe as American – just unnecessarily large. I was able to fit all of the fitted sheets, top sheets, and pillowcases – including the extras – into one load. I set a timer on my phone to coincide with the machine timer and set to work moving Charles’ things up to his room. He only had a crate or two of clothes left as opposed to Caroline’s six or seven. I carried them up to his room and set them down on his bed. It was at that moment that I realised I was still dressed for work. I’d been in my full suit all day, through everything, the hospital, Ikea, all of it. I started looking through Charles’ dresser for something more suitable to wear. I couldn’t very well keep cleaning and organising in Westwood, now could I? Charles has no sense of organisation, whatsoever. He should have let me unpack his clothes for him when he first moved in. At least his socks would be together and wouldn’t be sharing a drawer with his t-shirts. I grabbed a pair of joggers and a t-shirt and got changed, hanging my suit up in his closet so it wouldn’t get wrinkled. I thought about unpacking the crates of clothes I had brought up, but they were filled with out of season clothing – shorts, flip-flops, short sleeved button ups – so I figured I’d just leave them packed and Charles could store them somewhere until he needed them. I went back downstairs to double check that I had gotten all of Charles’ things when I was unexpectedly met by the man himself.

“Will? Not that I’m not pleased to see you mate, but what are you doing here? I thought you were gonna go home. Are you wearing my clothes?”

“Yeah, well I couldn’t really stay in my suit if we’re going to get this place cleaned up in time for tomorrow. I didn’t think you’d be home this soon, I was hoping Caroline and I would get most of the work done before you got home. I already took care of the shopping. The bedding is in the wash right now, I also got some extra pillows and towels. I ordered the new mattress as well; I’ve been assured it will be delivered by midday tomorrow. I haven’t made much progress down here yet; I did take some of your stuff upstairs. I already talked to Caroline about everything as well. When she gets back from her run, she’s going to take her things up to her room. And I told her that she has to be nice to Jane’s family, but I’m not really holding my breath on that.”

“Oh, Will you didn’t have to…”

“Charles, you’re my friend, you’re my _best_ friend. Of course, I did. Now, go get changed so we can start sorting through these boxes, yeah?” He clapped me on the back before heading up to change. A decent chunk of the boxes was in the front sitting room and almost all of it was Caroline’s. There was one crate of Charles’ shoes that was extricated and taken upstairs and a couple boxes of movies and books that we moved to the main living room. The boxes that were in there all belonged there – mainly movies but a couple more boxes of books as well – but the odd small kitchen appliance was sat on the shelves of the built-ins because the counters in the kitchen had boxes on them. _How the hell has he been living like this for two, almost three, weeks? I mean I guess we’ve been busy since the merger but still. If he wanted time off to properly move in, he could have had it._ That’s one of the most frustrating things about Charles. He’s got such a big heart and he’s so quick to help anyone who needs it, but he never asks for things when he needs them in return. He’ll just suffer in polite silence. He can also be incredibly lazy. It’s hard to know which this is – laziness or a lack of will to ask for help. By the time we had moved everything to its respective room, the alarm was going off for the laundry. As I was heading to the utility room, Caroline and her stupid dog came home. Gratefully, Charles intercepted her before she could accost me. I went down to the utility room to transfer the sheets to the dryer and put as many of the comforters as I could fit into the washer for the next load. I set two new alarms and went back up to the Bingleys, who were now arguing in the entryway.

“ _Charles,_ I don’t see _why_ you can’t just take them up for me. They’re so _heavy_.” _She’s so damn whiny._

“Caroline, Will and I have to get started down here. There’s a lot to unpack down here. If you spent less time whinging and more time getting a move on, you’d be halfway done already.”

“But…”

“Caroline it’s your shit, just fucking take care of it! It either goes upstairs now or it goes out for the binmen. You’re an adult for Christ’s sake. Can you act like it for at least the rest of the night?” I felt my jaw drop at that. _Way to go Charles! I’ve never been so proud._ Caroline looked ready to launch into the same amateur hysterics she had displayed earlier at the hospital, but she must have sensed that she was well and truly beaten. She huffed and grabbed a crate, stomping melodramatically up the stairs. Charles let Gucci out into the backyard so he wouldn’t be in the way, tossing a couple of toys out for him and making sure his water bowl was full before returning to the living room. we set to work unpacking his massive film collection. I’d never been much of a film buff before I met Charles; we would go to the cinema every once in a while, when I was little, but it was something we lost when mum died. We would take Georgie sometimes, if there was a Disney film she really wanted to see, but until Charles came into my life that was the extent of my cinema experience. I truly didn’t realise just how much had passed me by until I met Charles. He has to own close to 300 films and he’s watched every single one of them. He’s got the classics of course - Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Titanic, Gone with the Wind, Schindler’s List – but his taste is quite varied. Lots of romantic comedies, which is very Charles, but generally unexpected of a 25-year-old man. The films are the only thing that he ever kept organised. It took us an hour just to unpack all of them; I had to tend to the laundry again before we even got to putting them away. Unfortunately, his organisational system had gotten messed up in the packing process. I let Charles handle getting his films how he liked them and started on the books, which there was significantly less of. I heard Caroline come stomping down the stairs to collect more of her things. It appeared she decided to take each container up individually, huffing as she went. She went up and down as many times as there was containers in the front room. _Of course, she’d have to do this as passive-aggressively as possible._ I finished unpacking and putting his books away before he was even halfway through getting his films in order.

“Jesus Charles. You can’t organise your dresser, but you’ll spend three years getting your movie collection just right?”

“Oh, bugger off!” He kept working on his films while I got started unpacking the last box, which was full of photographs. He had so many photos – him, Caroline, and Louisa at Louisa’s wedding, him with his parents at our graduation ceremony, him when he was a kid, the two of us at various points in our friendship, so many wonderful memories with his family that I never really had with my own. I’ve always envied Charles that, that he got so much time with his parents and I so little. I put the frames up in the leftover space in the built-in where I had put Charles’ sorry collection of books. He could fix them later. My work finished; I went once again to the utility room to continue with the laundry. All that was left was the towels to go in the wash, while the last set of comforters went to the dryer. I took the sheets, pillowcases, pillows, and the three comforters that were dry up to the guest rooms to start making up the beds while Charles finished up with his films. The room with the missing mattress was on the same floor as Charles and Caroline’s rooms, along with one other bedroom. The other four were on the floor above. _Why did you have to get such a tall home Charles? This is a lot of things to carry and a lot of stairs up which they need to be carried. Good God, I’m starting to sound like Caroline._ Getting the fitted sheets on by myself was a bit challenging, but Charles was still going to be awhile so at least I had time to kill. Once the beds were made, I put what was left into the room with the mysterious missing mattress so it would all be ready for tomorrow. When I came back downstairs, Charles was already working on the kitchen, unloading plates and other dishes into the cabinets. For all the time we spent on the living area, the kitchen took less than hour to unpack. The small appliances were never really boxed up, so they just needed storing. The dishes and utensils were all that needed to be taken out. It’s amazing to me that he genuinely lived with everything still in boxes for nearly three weeks and when it only took about three hours to unpack it all and put it away. I love Charles, I truly do, but he’s a lazy sod.

The house unpacked and the last of the laundry finishing up, we ordered Chinese for dinner and sat down to make a shopping list for groceries whilst we waited for it to arrive. Charles actually loves to cook, and he’s not half bad at it either. Jane will probably have dietary restrictions following her surgery, so we made sure to put plenty of bland and easy foods the list, like pasta and custard and potatoes and rice. Charles wanted to give the Bennets an “authentic English meal”, so we made sure to put all the ingredients for shepherd’s pie on the list as well as everything he'd need to do a traditional Sunday roast. Our dinner arrived and Charles called Caroline down to eat. She was still in a mood. She took her shrimp fried rice from the bag and wordlessly began picking at it. Charles dug into his beef and broccoli like it was going to walk away from him and as I got out my cashew chicken, I realised that this was the first actual meal I had had all day. I’m not sure how I made it this long on just coffee, a quarter of a sandwich, and some Monster Munch crumbs. I had half the container demolished before I even knew it. Suddenly, my phone began vibrating violently on the table. I didn’t recognise the number, but I answered.

“Will Darcy.”

“Hi, Mr. Darcy. My name is Detective Inspector Sean Locke, how are you this evening?”

“I’m fine, yourself?”

“Well, Mr. Darcy, thanks for asking. Unfortunately, I have some bad news: it appears someone tried to burn down your neighbour’s home tonight and your home sustained some damage in the process of putting the fire out. No one was hurt, thankfully, the family wasn’t home and obviously neither were you, but luckily another neighbour smelled the smoke and called 999 in time before it spread.”

“You said someone tried to… so you have evidence it was arson?”

“Yes, their front window was smashed and from what the fire investigator could see in the front room, there appear to be fragments of a broken bottle under the window, like they threw a Molotov cocktail into the home.”

“Jesus Christ. Is it safe to go in my home? I’d like to come and salvage what I can.”

“We can have someone from the fire service escort you inside, just in case. For the time being, we’re going to be treating your home as part of the crime scene as well, so you will have restricted access until we can get to the bottom of this.”

“Do you think they targeted the wrong home? That they meant to get mine and got my neighbour’s instead?”

“We aren’t ruling anything out yet Mr. Darcy, but that does beg the question, is there anyone you can think of that would want to cause you harm?” _Yes._

“No one comes to mind, but my firm has worked with some fairly high-profile clients in the past. It’s possible someone didn’t appreciate the work we did and decided to take it out on me.”

“Alright well, we’ll be in touch so if anyone comes to mind, please let us know.”

“Of course. Thank you for the call, I’ll be round in a bit to get what I can.”

“Alright, I’ll be here for a bit longer yet, so just ask for me when you get here.”

“Alright, thank you. See you in a bit then.” I hung up and set my phone back down on the table.

“Will, what’s going on? Did I hear that right, someone tried to burn your house down?”

“I don’t know, Charles, I don’t know but if someone did then I have a good idea of who that someone is, and he better hope the police catch him before I do.”

“Will, you can’t possibly think that he did this. He’s not allowed anywhere near you.”

“That wasn’t mandated, he was paid to stay away. If the money’s run out, he’s got a very nice incentive to reassert his presence in my life.” I grabbed a pair of Charles’ trainers out of the hall closet and shoved them on. I grabbed my phone and my keys and ran out the door, desperately searching the night for a passing cab. Charles emerged from the house moments later.

“I got us an Uber; it’ll be here in five minutes. Just relax, sit down for a minute.” I sat on the front steps and put my head in my hands. I knew _he_ wouldn’t stay out of my life forever, but I figured when _he_ gambled or drank away _his_ blood money _he’d_ go back to Catherine for a top-up, not try and burn my fucking house down. How did _he_ even know where to find me? Obviously, I’d be in London, the company is here, but how did _he_ know where my house was?

“Charles, he’s had to have been following me. How else would he know where I live?”

“Will, you don’t even know that he did this. Some crazy person could have just decided to burn a house down and chosen your neighbours’ at random. Or they could have been the targets all along and this has nothing to do with you at all.”

“I know it’s him Charles, I just know.”

“Okay mate. Well, I guess two of Jane’s sisters are going to need to share a room since you’ll be staying with me now too.”

“Charles…”

“Don’t argue with me Will, you’re staying here until the house is fixed and that’s final.” _As if this couldn’t get any worse. There goes my plan to avoid Lizzie and her family. Not that it ever would have worked in the first place; Charles would have made sure it didn’t._

“Thanks mate.” The Uber pulled up and I was in the backseat before I had realised my body was moving. Charles slid in beside me.

When we arrived, the police had cordoned off the entire street. I followed the instructions DI Locke had given me and was let through with Charles sticking close to my side. The Detective Inspector escorted us around the smattering of police cars and fire trucks that was still parked in front of my house. The air smelled acrid, like burnt plastic and smoke. Outwardly, the damage to both my home and my neighbours’ seemed minimal, considering. The stone exterior was scorched around the windows and the glass was shattered on the lower floor. It didn’t appear that the fire had spread any higher, however the windows appeared to have been damaged on the upper floors, most likely from the hoses. My home was scorched and the lower level glass also appeared to have been damaged by the hoses in the process of putting the fire out. As I passed by their house, I peered in the front window. Their entire front room was in cinders. An investigator with the fire service and a firefighter escorted us into my home. The water damage in the lower floor was significant and the smell of smoke hung in the air. Charles helped me get the suitcases down from the upstairs hall closet and pack my clothes. Thirty minutes later we were back outside with as many of my clothes as I could fit into three cases, not knowing how long I would be out of my home for. I exchanged contact information with the fire investigator just in case. Charles ordered another Uber for us. As we walked to the edge of the cordon, I surveyed the faces of the crowd that had gathered. Disaster always draws a crowd in London, no matter how small it is. My heart stopped and my blood ran cold as my eyes landed on the last person I ever wanted to see but, of course, _he’d_ want to see the effects of his handiwork. _He_ had a smirk on his face that I just wanted to wipe off with my fists. Or a brick. Anything. I locked eyes with the bastard and the smirk turned into a grin. _He_ nodded at me, turned, and walked away and I knew: George Wickham tried to burn my house down. He tried to kill me tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ew George Wickham.  
> Will doesn't hate dogs. He just doesn't like Caroline's dog because it's Caroline's dog.  
> Next Chapter: We meet the rest of the Bennets and Darcy continues to deal with the return of Wickham.


End file.
